Voldemort's Party of the Year
by Princess-Perfect
Summary: A look into Voldemort's life as he prepares a party for his Death Eaters, full of violent diarrhea, Draco's enormous pimple, and drunk Snape. Now with the last part: where Voldemort gets furiously angry... and drunk, along with Nagini.
1. Waking Up With a Hangover

Voldemort's Party of the Year

Part 1: Waking Up with a Hangover

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters and stories from Harry Potter.

"BRRRIIINNNNG! RISE AND SHINE, DARK LORD! BRRRRIIIINNNG! RISE AND SHINE, DARK LORD! BRRIII - "

It was morning at the Riddle House in Little Hangleton, England. Lord Voldemort was sleeping in his bed with his green, snake-pattern pyjamas until his alarm clock abruptly woke him up. Voldemort smacked the ugly gnome clock to stop the ringing. Two months ago, Peter Pettigrew had de-gnomed the Riddle House garden and (as a suck-up gift) had turned one of the stunned gnomes into an alarm clock. The scruffy creature had a clock stuck to its stomach, and at 8 a.m. every morning the gnome would grunt out the phrase "Rise and shine, Dark Lord" between loud rings.

Voldemort was awake, but still didn't want to get out of bed. He had had 7 shots of hard liquor the other night and was suffering a hangover. His head felt like the gnome had hammered his head open instead of just ringing in his ears.

"I don't want to get out of bed," groaned the Dark Lord as he held his aching head. "Bloody gnome..."

The critter quietly grunted to itself. Voldemort looked at the creature suspiciously, which immediately stopped grunting once the wizard shot it the evil eye.

Just when he was about to go back to sleep, Nagini slithered onto his bed and started licking his face with her serpent tongue.

"_Fine, fine, I'll get up_!" moaned Voldemort in Parseltongue. He slowly got himself up from the bed and headed to the bathroom. He took a long, hot shower using his favourite neon-green loofah.

He got dressed in his usual black hooded robe, but as he did so, he studied himself in the mirror and sighed. "My thighs are _so _huge, and - ew, could I have bigger pores?" Soon after, he went downstairs to the kitchen. Holding his aching head, he pulled out a bottle of the hangover-relief potion Severus Snape concocted him and poured it in a glass. He drank it down in one gulp and put the glass and bottle away. He got himself a bowl of Dragon Delight cereal ("A monstrous good breakfast!") and sat down at the kitchen table. Nagini moved across the floor with the _Daily Prophet _in her mouth and laid it beside Voldemort. He opened it up and read the front page article on the escape of many Death Eaters from Azkaban the other night. The Dark Lord had planned to have Peter Pettigrew sneak into Azkaban and free his fellow Death Eaters. It seemed the plan was a success.

The eating wizard heard a faint doorbell ring coming from the front entrance. Voldemort sensed it was Peter come back from freeing the Death Eaters. He pulled out his wand and did a quick door-opening spell. He soon heard footsteps approaching the kitchen, and saw nervous Peter enter the kitchen.

"Hello, Master!" greeted Peter. "The escape from Azkaban was a success!"

"Yes, I'm reading about it right now," said Voldemort, still holding his throbbing skull.

"Are you feeling a bit of a hangover from what you drank last night?"

"A bit."

"You said you wanted me to buy things for the party?"

"Ah, the party!" Voldemort was planning a large party to celebrate the escape of the Death Eaters and the death of Albus Dumbledore. "The list of things I wanted you to get is on the fridge."

Peter scurried over to the fridge and held up the list. "Cheese, crackers," read Wormtail, "punch, party mix... Sir, well... do you think that... cheese and crackers might not be... appropriate for a party such as the one we're having tonight?"

"That's why I added the party mix! That stuff always makes celebrations more festive."

"But sir... what about the last time we had a party? We had firewhisky, bat cakes, butterbeer..."

"I was thinking of that, but I wasn't sure if it should be as wild. At the last party, Malfoy got completely drunk, Dolohov had violent diarrhoea after eating the lobster tails - seriously, if you're allergic to shellfish you should be more careful..."

"I know, Master, but I must say that _was_ the party of the year!"

"Indeed, that is true." Voldemort pondered for a moment. "All right, get what I had last time. You know what I want?"

"Absolutely!"

"Good, then you can get those and a few other things you might think is appropriate for the party. I trust you; you're one of my best Death Eaters."

"Master, the compliment made my day!" smiled Wormtail.

"And when you go shopping, can you get me a Chocolate Frog? I like those, and I've been trying to get that Salazar Slytherin card."

"Definitely, Master." Peter soon left the house with a skip in his step to buy the things for the party, while Voldemort chuckled to himself.

" 'You're one of my best Death Eaters'... 'the compliment made my day'! I can't believe he fell for that!" Voldemort put his bowl in the sink and went to his planning workshop. Everywhere there were books of the Dark Arts, notes on previous plans and objects of dark magic. On one wall there was a large blackboard used for killing strategies, and on the opposite wall there was a dartboard with a picture of Harry Potter.

Voldemort sat at his desk. He took out a piece of parchment, dipped a quill in his ink bottle and started scribbling ideas. "Trap Harry Potter... in Godric's Hollow where his parents used to live... use Avada Kedavra... No, that's a horrible plan!"

He crumpled up the parchment and threw it in the garbage bin. He took out a new piece of parchment and started writing. "Capture Harry Potter's friend, Hermione Granger... threaten to kill her... and when he comes... kill him! Wait, that pesky Ronald Weasley will interfere." Voldemort concentrated, and then crossed out the first sentence. "Capture Harry's Potter's friends, Hermione Granger AND RONALD WEASLEY... That's no good!"

Voldemort crumpled up the plan and threw it in the rubbish bin with the other one. He wasted 33 pieces of parchment to think of a scheme, throwing darts at the Harry Potter picture in between ideas. Afterwards he went to his blackboard and sketched out a football-like strategy in chalk.

"So Draco Malfoy goes left," Voldemort said while drawing the plan out on the board, "and Lucius goes right, and they attack Harry and his minions from the sides... and then Bella enters and goes left - no right - she'll fake going left then go - no, she goes straight for Harry and..." He laid down the piece of chalk, dusted his hands off and stared at the plan. "I - am - pathetic! That's it, I'm having lunch."

Author's Note: The next chapter's coming up, entitled: Pre-Party Affairs. PLEASE REVIEW!


	2. PreParty Affairs

A Day in the Life of Lord Voldemort

Part 2: Pre-Party Affairs

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, its characters or plots, nor do I own the Road Runner and Wile E. Coyote.

Lord Voldemort ditched all his anti-Harry plans and went to the kitchen. He made himself a grilled cheese sandwich and ate it with a large bottle of butterbeer while watching cartoons. By then, Peter had come back with tons of bags and boxes.

"Master, I bought what you wanted!" exclaimed Peter, laying stuff on the counter. "The hors d'oeuvres are being dropped off later so they'll be hot for the party. The catering company is sending over house-elves to serve them too."

"Very good, put the drinks in the fridge, the food in the cupboards and the rest of the stuff on the counters."

As Peter laboured to put all the food, drinks and party things away, Voldemort continued to watch TV. He had acquired a liking to a certain Muggle show about a "Road Runner". He of course still hated Muggles, but he had such emotion for the shunned criminal mastermind "Wile E. Coyote". He sympathized with this fellow, it reminded him of his struggle to defeat Harry Potter. The Road Runner, like Harry Potter, was stupid, innocent and could easily be defeated. Yet Coyote, like himself, was a genius that had all the strength and creativity in the world. So how did the Road Runner always defeat Coyote, with little to no effort? Lord Voldemort silently sobbed to himself, and when Peter was downstairs, he threw his emptied bottle of butterbeer at the TV. He quickly picked everything up and put it in the sink (good thing the TV didn't crash, he wanted to get some killing strategies from the show! Now where could he get some dynamite...).

By noon, Peter had finished putting everything away. "Finally, you are done!" stated Voldemort. "Now you can start with the decorations." The Dark Lord pointed to bins and bins of decorations, which Peter (who was breathless from carrying all those heavy boxes) gulped down hard at the thought of doing more work. "Yes, Master," he said reluctantly, picking up a box of decorations and taking the things out.

"I hired Walden Macnair to be DJ," announced Voldemort. "He'll be coming later. So Peter, where's my Chocolate Frog?"

"On the counter near the fridge."

Voldemort skimmed through the bags in the kitchen until he spotted the little package. He opened it up and grabbed the chocolate frog inside. He bit off the frog's limbs one by one (he loved to torture the frogs) while pretending to speak for the frog in a squeaky voice saying, "Save me, save me!". Once done, he pulled out the card inside and checked to see who it was.

"Dumbledore _again?_" The image of Albus in the card looked up at him and gave him the finger. Voldemort was appalled. "How dare you..." He ripped up the card and threw it in the trash. He then called out to Peter. "While you are decorating, I will go outside and work on my yoga routine."

"You do yoga, Master?" enquired Peter as he was dangling from an unstable ladder to put up streamers.

"A true evil mastermind must conquer all aspects of himself: mind, body and soul. Come on, Nagini!"

The Dark Lord went to his bedroom and got into his favourite spandex yoga outfit, at the same time as Nagini was slithering away to find their yoga mats. Peter almost dropped the bag of sparkles (Voldemort insisted on decorating with sparkles) when he saw his master in a getup too clung to his body to be natural. Nagini followed the Dark Lord with the mats out into the garden in the backyard while Peter tried to recover from his burning eyes.

By 4 o'clock the decorations were ready and the dance floor was put together in the living room. Peter had decided to make a steaming pot of pixie soup for himself and the Dark Lord for supper. Once it was ready, Peter went outside to tell Voldemort that supper was waiting for him in the dining room. He found Lord Voldemort contorted on his mat, his legs over his neck and his arms bended in odd positions through his legs.

"Hello, Wormtail. I'm assuming supper is ready."

"Indeed, Master, I made pixie soup!"

"Pixie soup? Darn, I was hoping for fried phoenix sticks..."

"O-Oh, I d-didn't know," stuttered Peter. "I'll make it for you if you - "

"There's no point in making something else now, I've already worked up a vicious appetite. Gosh, Wormtail, why do you have to mess dinner up like this?"

"I- I'm so sorry, Master! I didn't mean to! I'll make a whole feast for you tomorrow, with fried phoenix sticks, cream of Venomous Tentacula and anything your dark heart desires!"

Lord Voldemort gave him a disgusted look, and with a grunt, said, "I will only eat that liquid of filth because I am so famished. You are lucky that I do not put the Crutacius Curse on you."

"Yes, Master, I am very thankful you haven't cursed me," whimpered Peter. "Supper is on the dining room table if you want."

_Haha, the guilt trip works every time_, thought Voldemort to himself. Peter was about to shuffle back to the house, when Voldemort called him back. "Wait, Peter!"

"Yes, Master?" asked Peter.

"Could you help untangle me? I can't really get out of this position. Oh, and untangle Nagini too." The Dark Lord pointed the abnormally long index finger of his contorted right arm to the right of him, where Nagini lay in a knot on her mat.

"Oh, all right..."

Author's Note: PPLLEEEEAAASSSEE REVIEWWWWWWWWWWW! I beg you! The next chapter's coming up, the party begins then.


	3. The Party Begins

Voldemort's Party of the Year

Part 3: The Party Begins

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor _Saturday Night Fever_, Air Forces or MTV.

Lord Voldemort put on a disgusted face at the dinner table to pretend he was reluctantly eating the phoenix soup Peter prepared for them. It made Peter feel terrible and Voldemort silently giggle to himself (even Nagini snickered as she drank out of her bowl on the floor).

Soon after they finished their supper, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it!" volunteered Peter as he raced to the door. He slowly opened the front door ajar, but the person behind it smacked the door open and crushed Peter into the wall.

"Macnair, you've finally come!" declared Voldemort in the living room, as Walden Macnair came in.

"Yeah, it took me a while to find all my old equipment," said Macnair. Walden Macnair used to be a DJ while he executed animals for the Ministry; it wasn't very often animals were executed. "It's sure good to be out of Azkaban."

"That's good to here," said Voldemort uninterested. "You can set up by the dance floor."

At that moment, Peter joined the two dark wizards. "Hey, Peter," greeted Macnair. "Didn't see you when I came in. Could you bring in the cases and boxes I left at the front?"

Peter, covered in bruises and walking with a limp, sighed heavily. "I'll go get them," he mumbled and hobbled back to the door.

"If anyone needs me, then you'll just have to wait," stated the Dark Lord. "I'm getting ready in my room."

As Macnair set up and Peter dragged the equipment in, Voldemort was trying to pick an outfit. He had worn unique clothes to the previous get-togethers. He checked through his wardrobe, took out a few garments he'd worn at other parties and tried some on.

The first outfit he tried was a disco suit from the 70s, very _Saturday Night Fever_. "Definitely not for tonight," said Lord Voldemort. He burst out into a couple of dance moves, sprouted a few disco steps, the moonwalk and a final crotch-pull (which didn't seem to go as planned). "OUCH! Darn, that thing's been acting up, I need to get that checked..."

He put on another past ensemble, just to get more of the creative juices flowing. This time he tried on what he wore for his Woodstock after-party; tie-dye shirt, floral pants, colourful headband and strings of beaded jewellery. He almost gasped when he looked into the mirror. "And I thought this was fashionable!"

He didn't know why, but he tried on what he wore for the last bash - it was a Halloween costume party. He shook his head as he stared at himself in the mirror in his female Viking outfit, with a blonde braided wig, metal bra and all. "What... was... I thinking..."

After throwing around piles and piles of clothes, an idea for the perfect outfit struck him in the head.

Meanwhile, Macnair and Peter (exhausted and bruised up pretty badly) had just finished setting up. The house-elves and the hors d'oeuvres were dropped by, and everything was set for the party.

"I'm ready!" declared Lord Voldemort. Walden Macnair's and Peter Pettigrew's jaws dropped when they saw their almighty master - a criminal mastermind, evil genius who was powerful and murderous in every way - walk out of his room in baggy jeans, diamond chains (bling-bling), a backwards cap, Air Force sneakers, and a jersey.

"Do you like my outfit?" asked Lord Voldemort.

They were both lost for words, but thankfully they were saved by the doorbell, which rang loudly throughout the house. Peter scurried to the front door, though as soon as he opened it the door slammed him against the wall (again) as a group of Death Eaters walked into the Riddle House.

"Party time!" they all shouted as they ran through the door under the banners saying '_Welcome From Escaping Azkaban_' and '_Dumbledore is Dead!_'. Voldemort greeted them coolly, though they were taken aback by the ensemble.

"What _is_ up, my homie-wizards?" greeted Voldemort, shaking the hands of his Death Eaters. "Dolohov, don't let anything happen like last time; the stink was in the washroom for a month! - Bella, how are you? Enjoy yourself! - Ah, Severus Snape! My most trusted minion, the killer of the infamous Professor Albus Dumbledore!" Severus Snape, a little paler and more stressed than usual, entered the living room and greeted Lord Voldemort. "How's life on the run treating you?"

"It's a challenge, but it is worth it. Master, I would do anything for you," he said, making a low bow.

"Really? That's wonderful! So can you serve at the punch bowl?"

"Uh... excuse me?"

"You said you'd do anything for me, so will you serve the punch for me?"

"Of course," said Snape, surprised at the order. "I'll do whatever you want..."

Severus slowly walked to the punch bowl with a confused frown on his face. Voldemort turned around to welcome more of the guests.

"The Malfoy family, along with Ms. Parkinson! Welcome!" greeted Lord Voldemort as he approached them and surveyed each member: Lucius, Narcissa (with her white hair and pale visage she looked similar enough to Lucius to be his sister, which made him cringe at the idea of incest), and Draco with his arm around Pansy Parkinson (_Good thing she doesn't look like Draco!_). "Lucius, try and hold your alcohol, we don't want another incident like the previous party!"

"Do not worry, Master," responded Lucius confidently, "I have gotten over my addiction to - ooh, firewhisky!" He swiped up a shot from a house-elf passing by and drank it in one gulp. "I'm sorry, what were we saying?"

"We were talking about what happened last party," stated Narcissa. "That was the night Draco was conceived."

Draco's jaw dropped and his sallow face rapidly turned a shade similar to that of beets, redder than that monstrous pimple on his forehead that the Dark Lord couldn't stop staring at.

"WHAT!" exclaimed Draco in horror. "But I - how could you - in front of... MMMOOOOOMMM!"

"It's what happened! I can't help it if you're uncomfortable about your parents' sexuality," said

Narcissa. _That makes two of us_, thought Voldemort. "I remember that night so well."

"Really? I can't remember a thing! Odd way alcohol works... Ah, mead!" Lucius left the group to follow a plump house-elf carrying a tray of mead-filled glasses.

"Wow, I suppose it was you making the howling that night?" enquired the Dark Lord. "I thought it was Fenrir Greyback who had sneaked into the house the entire time."

Even Narcissa turned a bit rosy at the comment, and went to find Lucius. Draco was standing silently in front of Voldemort, zit throbbing, clutching to the silent Pansy. He stared at Voldemort shyly.

"Master, I am terribly sorry I did not execute the request you had for me," said Draco meekly.

"Dumbledore died anyway, and you did plan the raid that resulted in his death, therefore I've decided not to kill you," said Voldemort, looking away from Draco as if to demonstrate he was too angry to look at him (when really he didn't want to look at his pimple). "I accept your apology."

"Thank you, my Lord," sighed Draco with a bow. He stood back up and uttered, "You have nice Air Forces, I must say."

"Thank you!" beamed Voldemort. "You're the first one who's complimented. But there is only one thing that may bring you back into my inner circle."

"What is it? I shall do whatever you command."

"You must teach me how to speak gangsta."

"P-Pardon me?"

"Gangsta. You know, to talk like pimps and rappers, such as 'off the heezy' and 'that's sick'."

"Actually, they say 'ill' instead of 'sick' these days," admitted Draco.

"Aren't they the same thing?"

"They are, but 'sick' is considered passé and now everyone says 'ill'."

"Well that's the last time I watch reruns on MTV!"

"And may I make an adjustment to your wardrobe?" Draco gently took his hands off of Pansy and moved them closer to Voldemort's backwards hat, which he turned to the side of his head. "That's how rappers wear hats."

"Ah, thank you!"

"Come on, Pansy, let's go. Good evening, Dark Lord."

"Yes, good evening, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Parkinson."

The teenage couple left the Dark Lord to go off to meet other young dark wizards and witches. Voldemort took a martini off the tray of a house-elf and observed the partying around him.

"I think this party will turn out quite nicely," muttered Voldemort, sipping his cocktail. "Very, very nicely."

Author's Note: Oh please please please PLEASE REVIEW! The next chapter's coming up, and it's called, "The Hustle, a Dance-off and Much More".


	4. The Hustle, a DanceOff and Much More

Voldemort's Party of the Year

Part 4: The Hustle, a Dance-off and Much More

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I own the rights to "Do the Hustle". I have given Goyle's father and Crabbe's father first names since J.K. Rowling hasn't told us them. "I Thought You Were a Phoenix" by the Weird Sisters is actually a song I have on this website.

All around Voldemort, wizards and witches were amusing themselves: drinking, dancing, chatting, eating, even playing 'Pin the Curse on Dumbledore' at one side of the room. Macnair played great songs, and after "I Thought You Were a Phoenix" by the Weird Sisters he spoke into the microphone. "All right, folks, this is a request from our master, to add a little more groove into your step. It's one of the Dark Lord's favourite songs: "Do the Hustle"!"

"Yes!" whispered Voldemort to himself as the song started. He got his minions Antonin Dolohov and Augustus Rookwood to meet him on the dance floor to do the steps.

"Dun-DUN - dun-DUN-dun - dun-dun - Do the hustle, do the hustle, do the hustle, do the hustle..."

Following a few break dance moves, Voldemort and his two Death Eaters moved their hips in different directions for each 'dun' until they hopped around waving their hands as if twirling a lasso for each "do the hustle". A shout of cheers and the vibrating murmur of applause rose up from the crowd.

The next song was played, another famous dance anthem, and all the wizards and witches in the centre boogied down while Voldemort watched them. He remarked that Bellatrix Lestrange was a good dancer, doing an excellent "robot" and "worm". Once the song finished, Voldemort approached her on the floor.

"Nice moves, Bella," spoke the Dark Lord. "You have quite the skills, but if I may, would you like to accept the challenge of a little contest on the dance floor?

"Are you saying you're challenging me to a dance-off?" enquired Bellatrix.

"Precisely," he answered. "Macnair, hit it!"

"Sure thing, Boss," responded Macnair. He changed the CD and put on a hip hop beat. With a couple of bobs of his head, Voldemort said, "Let's see whatcha got, Bella."

Bellatrix started with the robot, followed by the 1,2 step and the splits. The crowd roared in cheers.

"That's quite nice," he admitted. "But can you dig this?" Voldemort did the moonwalk, a back flip then a head spin. The spectactors cheered loudly. "Your turn, Bella."

Bellatrix performed the worm, a swipe and ended with a handstand. But the Dark Lord finished Bella off in the contest with a flare (the arms on the ground while the legs move around the arms), a backspin, and a move where he froze in the air and dropped onto his back without hurting himself. All the wizards around him shouted in cheer.

"I declare the Dark Lord the winner!" announced Macnair through the microphone, which was followed by cheers from the crowd around the two competitors. Bellatrix did not seem sad or angry, but she gently smiled.

"Wow, Master, I got _served_!" exclaimed Bellatrix. "You really danced me out!"

"Thank you, Bella," he said. "I know I'm good, but it's nice to hear that you're not a sore lo - Wormtail's putting up the Dumbledore penata!"

A loud cheer came from everyone while they rushed to the Dumbledore-shaped penata that Peter Pettigrew had just hung from the ceiling. Everyone crowded around the penata to get the first hit, trampling Wormtail while doing so. The first to swing was John Goyle, who had terribly bad aim and could not hit it. Many people had a go at the penata, including Lucius who was so drunk he swung the bat 5 feet away from it. While the Death Eaters were swinging away, the Dark Lord noticed Severus Snape was standing quietly and sternly near the punch bowl (right next to the couch where Draco and Pansy were making out).

"Severus, not enjoying yourself?" questioned Voldemort. Severus looked up and gave a forced smile.

"Of course I'm enjoying myself, Master," said Snape in a monotone voice. "Really, I am."

"Cheer up," encouraged Voldemort. "And that's an order! Enjoy the festivities!" Voldemort conjured up a pointed party hat and stuck it on Severus' head.

"Oh, Master!" exclaimed Draco as he threw Pansy away from him once he saw Voldemort. "I was thinking about when I could teach you gangsta, how about next week?"

"That will be fine," said Voldemort, trying not to stare at Draco's throbbing pimple.

"Would you know which day next week?"

"I'll check my schedule." _Goodness, that thing's huge! Is that zit staring at me or something? _

He walked back to watch the penata (while wiping Snape's hair grease off his hands) when William Crabbe and John Goyle both clobbered the penata and smashed it into pieces.

Many activities were going on, including a huge life-size cut-out of Harry Potter that was going to be used as a dart board. A spell was done so that the real Harry felt pain where each dart was thrown. Avery was the first to throw a dart, and it hit Harry on the left arm. Far away from the party in 4 Privet Drive, Harry had awakened from a deep sleep by a shot of severe pain and clutched his arm. Rodolphus Lestrange was next, and he threw the dart quite hard at his right leg. Harry grasped his leg, whimpering with anguish. Mulciber had a go, as did Jugson, Alecto and Amycus, and with each dart Harry screamed out in the night and quivered in his bed, wondering what in Merlin's name was happening to him. Finally Voldemort tried it. He took 5 darts and at the same time, threw all of them in a bunch and they hit Harry's crotch area. Harry howled in horror, and between gasps, looked down at his specifically sore area and muttered, "Oh boy, Ginny won't like that."

The party was going fantastically and all were enjoying themselves (maybe not Peter, and Snape was debatable... He seemed to loosen up after Voldemort saw him pour alcohol into the punch bowl). If only the second half of the party had been this good.

Author's Note: PLEASE REVIEW! The next chapter is: "The Party Starts to Get Ugly".


	5. The Party Starts to Get Ugly

Voldemort's Party of the Year

Part 5: The Party Starts to Get Ugly

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Air Forces.

Afterwards the party got a bit hectic, and it started when Lord Voldemort passed by Antonin Dolohov.

"Dolohov, enjoying the - are you all right?" Voldemort stared at Dolohov's screwed up, agonized, green-tinged face.

"They looked so good," spoke Dolohov, clutching his stomach. "I couldn't resist eating them..."

"Eating what?"

"The crab cakes, Master! The crab cakes!"

"Are you kiddingme, Dolohov? Even after that lobster tail episode, you manage to get yourself sick again, knowing that you're allergic to shellfish?"

"I know, but they looked so - It's coming up!"

"What's coming - "

Suddenly Dolohov vomited right next to the Dark Lord, his puke barely missing Voldemort's shoes. He was completely revolted, and as he tried to step away from the vomit, Dolohov whisked himself to the washroom. Draco Malfoy, seeing Voldemort near the puke, stopped kissing Pansy and ran to his aid.

"Master, are you okay? Are your sneakers ruined? I'll clean them if you want - "

"They're all right, they're all right!" asserted Voldemort, stopping Draco from going down on the floor and scrubbing his Air Forces with his robe.

"That's good to hear. And about me teaching you gangsta, I was wondering if you would be interested in listening to some rappers to learn more about the speech."

"Yes, that would help." Voldemort again found the throbbing spot on Draco's forehead. _Yikes, has that thing gotten bigger? _

"In that case, I could suggest to you some - "

"You know what," said Voldemort, snatching a mini beef kebob, "we can talk about this next week during the lesson. Right now you can go make out with Pansy."

"Yes, Master," said Draco with red cheeks, a little shy the evil wizard had seen him and his girlfriend locking lip. Voldemort left Draco to himself, until his father drunkenly walked over to him and swung his arm around his son.

"Hey honey," spat out Lucius, the rum in his glass splashing a bit into Draco's face, "why don't we stick with tradition and make Draco a little brother or sister?"

"Dad, I _am _Draco!" shrieked Draco.

"Oops sorry, sonny!" Lucius took his arm off of him and stumbled off to find Narcissa. Draco stood there, absolutely horrified.

"I think I'm going to be sick," spoke Draco, and he ran to the washroom. To his bad luck, the washroom was busy, though he wouldn't want to go in there anyway with the putrid smell of diarrhoea and vomit.

"Oh why, oh why did I have those crab cakes!" wailed Dolohov from the washroom.

"So gross so gross so gross," repeated Draco, trying to find another washroom. He didn't make it in time though, and ended up throwing up on Voldemort's Air Forces.

"My shoes!" yelled the dark wizard.

"I'm so sorry!" apologized Draco, wiping his mouth.

"Just go away and stop bugging me!" scolded Voldemort, before saying "Skurgify" and cleaning up his shoes. "And for goodness sake, do something about zit!"

Voldemort walked away to leave Draco embarrassed and zooming off to a mirror. The celebration was going so well, why did it have to take a wrong turn? The sick Dolohov, the drunk Lucius, the annoying Draco, that hairy werewolf sneaking around... werewolf?

"Oh no, not Fenrir!" groaned Voldemort as he watched Fenrir Greyback sneak into the room and try to hide in the crowd. He followed the monstrous man into the group of people and got a hold of him. "Fenrir, I told you not to come to the party!"

"Come on, Dark Lord, give me a chance!" grunted Fenrir. "I've changed since '78!"

"Fenrir, you ate _two _of my guests, _five _of the waiters, all the food, got completely drunk and you almost burnt the house down!"

"I was having an off day, Dark Lord, the full moon was coming up!"

"And the full moon is coming up this time too! Get out!"

"Please, give me a chance - "

"Get out!"

"I'll behave nicely - "

"GET OUT!"

Fenrir Greyback looked down gloomily and sighed. "Fine, I'll leave," he said and walked away.

"That Fenrir may be useful as an ally but he's so frigging annoying!"

Voldemort spent a while on the dance floor trying to bop away some of his worries. A couple of times he caught his eye on Snape by the punch bowl; Severus was gulping down many cups full of punch (which Voldemort knew was spiked). By 1am, the party was still going strong but Severus had become quite tipsy and had moved away from the punch. He had loosened up by now and had become a lot more social with his fellow dark wizards. Voldemort was not quite sure, but he thought he saw Severus do the moonwalk followed by a crotch pull.

Only a little while later and Snape had become intoxicated. He was not as social, but instead was wailing of his troubles on the couch to Peter, who was trying to relax with an ice-pack on his face.

"My papa... _never_ loved me," told Severus drunkenly, drinking down a shot of firewhisky and then throwing the glass behind his shoulder. "He used to beat me... _every single day_ you know... except when I was at _Hogwarts_. I _would... _have had a nice time at the school if it wasn't for that... _stupid James Potter_, with his buddies... _Sirius Black _and... _Remus Lupin_. I knew... _you_ hung around him, but I knew it wasn't your fault... 'Peter was the real... good guy in that group,' I always said to myself... You should have been in _Slytherin_... you know that? You didn't need to be with those scum-bag... _Gryffindors_."

"Thank you, Severus," muttered Peter. Peter was about to switch the bag of ice to his knee when Snape wrung his arm around Peter's shoulder with a new glass of Scotch in his hand.

"_We_... should hang out together some time," suggested Snape. "Why don't you come by my house?"

"I _was _at your house, Snape," groaned Peter. "I stayed at your house for a year and you treated me like dirt!"

"Really? Oh _yeah_... sorry about that! I didn't mean to - " Severus spontaneously vomited on top of Peter. Peter looked at himself in utter repulsion, and got up from the couch. Severus tried to call him back. "Wait... where are you going? You can't _leave_ me _here_!"

Voldemort came over to the dirty couch where Severus was on, and cleaned up the couch with a wave of his wand. When the couch was clean, Voldemort sat beside the whimpering Severus.

"Severus, how are you?" asked Voldemort, taking a sip of his glass of wine. "Feel a bit better after throwing up on my couch?"

"I've been better," spoke Severus, snatching Voldemort's glass of wine and drinking it all down. "And _you_?"

"Not under the influence yet," admitted Voldemort, "but getting there! Eating some of the hors d'oeuvres help. Why don't you have some?"

"Whatever," said Severus, and snatched a handful of pigs-in-a-blanket from a house-elf passing by. He stuffed the food in his mouth and ate it with his mouth open, bits of food slipping out and falling onto the floor.

"You having a good time?"

"I'm _pretty_ good," spoke Snape as he ate, then he finally gulped the food down. He stared at Lucius Malfoy as he fumbled past them.

"What do you think of Lucius?" asked Snape.

"Quite a good Death Eater, especially money-wise," answered Voldemort. "However he sure likes the drinks - "

"I mean his looks... Isn't he _gorgeous_?"

"What?" questioned Voldemort. "You think he's - I mean you're into - Severus, I think that drink's talking for you. You seriously can't be into - "

"He's so _fine_... he should be _Luscious_ instead of _Lucius_. That's it... I'm gonna go talk to him."

"No don't! You don't know what you're talking about, you can't... swing the other you, you just can't!"

Severus, nonetheless, walked over to Lucius who was leaning on a stool and picking his nose. Before Snape got to him, he pulled his finger out of his nostril and flicked the booger.

"Hiya!" said Lucius. "How's it goin'?"

"Lucius... I love you!" exclaimed Severus.

"Love ya too, bro!" exclaimed Lucius, giving Snape a bear hug and patting him on the back.

"Friends forever!"

"I don't mean that kinda love, Lucius," said Severus and pushed Lucius away. "I'm in love with you!"

Suddenly the music stopped, and everyone at the party stared at the two wizards.

"Say what?" questioned Lucius, who took his hand off of the stool and immediately fell. He got up and stared at Severus. "You're into me? What am I talking about, of course you are! I'm so damn sexy!" Lucius ran his fingers all over his chest.

"That dude's nutso!" said Voldemort to himself, drinking up a shot of vodka. "But hey, it makes the party interesting!"

"Come on... leave Narcissa and elope with _me_!"

"What the - NO!" shouted Lucius. "I ain't like that, and I'm _way _too good for you!"

"And Narcissa _is_? For goodness sake, Lucius... she looks like she could be your _sister_!"

"What?"

"That's so true!" said Walden Macnair. "I never thought of that!"

"Why does this have to happen to my parents?" sighed Draco to himself. "Why _my _parents?"

"Thank goodness, I'm not the only one who thinks that!" exclaimed Voldemort. "All this time I've felt like the only one who was grossed out to see people who look like they're committing incest!"

"This is my wife and I you're talking about!" shouted Lucius.

"So? She's a fugly slut!"

"What the hell'd you say about her?" sneered Lucius and shoved Snape away. "Take it back."

"No," said Snape, and shoved him in the chest too.

"Take it back!"

"Hell no!"

"That's it, you're getting it!" Lucius punched Snape in the face, and they both started to fight on the floor. The crowd started to shout, "Fight! Fight! Fight!" and tried to provoke them, even Voldemort was getting into it. But then Voldemort saw that they were approaching the coffee table with Helga Hufflepuff's goblet, one of his Horcruxes, and he immediately wanted to stop the fight.

"Hey guys, watch where you step!" shouted Voldemort. He tried to break them apart, but Lucius elbowed him in the head and he fell over.

"Ouch! Macnair, pry them apart!"

Lucius and Severus had just started to duel with magic until Macnair left the DJ area and went to the two fighting wizards.

"Expelliarmus!" he said, and disarmed both of them. He tried to push them away from each other. "Come on, guys, break it up!"

"Get out of the way, bonehead!" said Severus. "Go kill a hippogryph or something and leave us alone!"

"What did you just say?" shouted Macnair angrily. With one large clenched fist, he punched Severus in the face and he fell over. Severus fought back and they started to wrestle, until they knocked over the Hufflepuff cup.

"NOOOO!" screamed Voldemort. Everything seemed in slow-motion, as he ran to the goblet and brought out his hands to catch it. Unfortunately, the cup fell before he could catch it and it shattered into pieces. A green mist seeped out of the goblet and vanished into the air. Voldemort sobbed to himself. "YOU JUST BROKE ONE OF MY HORCRUXES, YOU IDIOTS!"

Author's Note: The last chapter is up next!


	6. Chapter 6

Voldemort's Party of the Year

Part 6: The End

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Severus and Walden had just looked up from their fighting, Lucius watched Voldemort worriedly as he sat on the floor, and Voldemort's white face was blood-red with rage as steam seemed to run out of his ears. The Dark Lord, shaking in anger, took out the wand that was in the back pocket of his baggy jeans and pointed it to the three of them.

" I LIKED THAT GOBLET!" shouted Voldemort. "AND THE GOLD ON IT MATCHED THE COUCH, BUT THAT DOESN'T MATTER TO YOU, DOES IT? CRUCIO!"

Voldemort performed the Crutacious Curse on Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy and Walden Macnair. They all screamed in horror as their bodies underwent unbelievable pain. They contorted into positions the human body could not put itself in, and they twisted into shapes that... ironically looked like Voldemort's yoga positions. At the end the wizards' legs were twisted over their heads and through their arms into one big human knot. Voldemort, who had been heaving with anger minutes before, was now taking in deep breaths to calm himself.

"See, Wormtail? Thisis the use of yoga!" whispered Voldemort to Peter Pettigrew. He turned back to his aching minions. "Have you learnt your lessons?"

"Yes," groaned the three Death Eaters in unison.

"I'm only releasing Walden because he's the DJ," stated the Dark Lord. With a wave of his wand, he did a spell so that Walden became untangled, and rubbing his painful joints, stumbled back to his station and continued to play the music. "And as for you two, I'm making you stay like this for the rest of the night to make sure you won't get into any trouble."

The party went on; the music continued, everyone on the centre floor continued to dance, Draco continued to make out with Pansy, people continued to drink and eat, and Dolohov continued to wallow in his self-pity in the washroom (_That washroom won't ever smell the same again! _thought Voldemort). It had become early morning, and all the stresses of the party had made Voldemort a little cranky. _Some spiked punch might do some good right now_, thought Voldemort. He walked over to the punch bowl where Severus had been.

"Nagini, what are you doing?" Voldemort spotted his snake pet's head in the bowl, sloppily slurping away at the contents. It was evident that she was intoxicated. The Dark Lord removed her head from the bowl, and she laid her upper-body on the table lazily. "You didn't know it was spiked, did you?"

Nagini slowly shook her head. The dark wizard patted the drunken creature's head, as it went to sleep with its mouth open and serpent tongue drooping onto the table.

"Another Horcrux Severus messed up," grunted Voldemort. He glanced at Severus, looking quite pale and sick, and sent a spell to deliver a shock of pain to Severus. Snape winced as Voldemort chuckled to himself. He turned to the punch bowl and looked at the delicious-looking, red liquid sitting in the glass basin. "Maybe this stuff'll get me relaxed." He poured himself a full cup of beverage and drank it all up. The spike of it wake him up right away. "Hey, this stuff is good! Maybe I'll have some more..."

Ten cups later, he was doing the hokie-pokie with Nagini and singing the song loudly on the dance floor. Everybody enjoyed watching the sight of him, it's not often you see the Dark Lord flat-out smashed (unless you're Peter Pettigrew). The party lasted until 4 am. The whole crowd slowly left (a couple of people brought Severus home as did the Malfoy family with Lucius, Voldemort had forgotten to untie them from their knotted state) and once Walden Macnair had packed up and left, Wormtail dragged Lord Voldemort to his bed for the rest of the night.

The evil (and drunk) wizard slept until noon, and he woke up, again, with a monstrous hangover.

Author's Note: That's it, folks! PLEASE REVIEW!


End file.
